Caught In The Middle
by miss.lucie
Summary: Having CM Punk as your best friend is one thing, but having Paul Heyman as your father is another. When the two meet, nothing good comes from it. When Kennedy gets stuck choosing between Team Punk and Team Heyman, things heat up - fast.
1. Chapter 1

"I can't believe that they're actually letting you accompany me." CM Punk smiled at the short, athletic brunette that was standing in front of the TV backstage. He walked up to her, and wrapped his arms around her. "Apparently your _father_ is letting you rule the roost when it comes to me."

The brunette let out a laugh. "Yeah, apparently. I have no idea why." She mockingly held a microphone. "CM Punk & Kennedy. Works well, don't you say?" CM Punk smiled.

"Of course. You ready to get going out there?" CM Punk asked, as he squeezed her, causing her to let out a squeal. She turned around and hit his chest.

"You know I hate that!" She growled playfully. "Of course I'm ready. You don't like my casual look today?" CM Punk laughed. Her version of casual was usually quite odd. She wore black Jeffrey Campbell lita boots, light blue denim shorts, and a black & white baseball shirt. Her hair was hanging over her shoulders – it was freshly washed, smelt like strawberries.

"I always do." He winked, joking. "Let's go." The two walked towards the gorilla section, while Kofi Kingston made his entrance.

"Don't screw it up." Paul Heyman casually mentioned as he stood at the gorilla section.

"What are you even doing here?" CM Punk & Kennedy spoke at the same time. They turned to each other and laughed.

"You'll find out." Paul spoke, giving no indication of his intentions. Kennedy tugged on Punk's arm, as the two walked towards the curtain.

She leant over to whisper in his ear. "I really don't know what's going on. I'm a bit worried. Be on your game."

Punk nodded, and kissed her forehead. They walked out together, to a mixed reaction. They posed on the top of the ramp, before they wandered down to the ring to begin the match.

* * *

Punk picked up the win on Kofi Kingston, when instead of his music playing, Brock Lesnar's did. Kennedy got in the ring with Punk, and looked around. Brock walked out, with Paul not too far behind him with a frustrated look upon his face.

"Kennedy, get out of the ring. Now." Paul stated, not playing games. Kennedy shook her head at her father who was standing in front of her. "Kennedy, if you don't get out, bad things are going to happen. I don't want you to get hurt."

Punk grabbed a microphone. "What's going on Paul? Plotting against me?" Lesnar smiled a sick, twisted smile. Punk moved the microphone down after he saw the twitch in Lesnar's eye. "Get out of the ring Kiki. Get out!"

Just as Kennedy got out of the ring, Lesnar got in, and begin to beat down on Punk. Lesnar backed off once Punk was motionless in the middle of the ring, almost unconscious.

Kennedy slid in, just as her father did. She slapped her father square in the face. "What has gotten into you?" She screamed at him. After they exited the ring, Paul was yelling at Punk, saying how he was the only family Punk had ever known.

Kennedy sat by Punk's head playing with his hair. "Are you alright?"

"Did you know that was going to happen?" He mumbled, as he breathed in her strawberry hair, and whatever delicious fragrance she was wearing. "Please tell me you didn't."

"I told you, I had no idea it was going to happen. I couldn't do that to you, Philly." She cradled his head until Heyman was gone, and she helped him up assisted with walking him back to his locker room.

On the way back to their locker room, they bumped into Heyman, who was without his 'guys'. "I need to speak with you NOW Kennedy!"

"I'll be there once I get him back to the locker room." She spoke bitterly, as she tightened her grip on Punk, as he did to her. She got him in there, and sat him down on a chair.

"Do you need anything? Ice, water, food?" Punk shook his head, but smiled. "Thanks for helping me back."

"Anytime Philly." She kissed his forehead, before closing the locker room door behind her. She wandered off in search of the father that backstabbed and betrayed her closest friend.


	2. Chapter 2

"What do you want?" Brock Lesnar spoke angrily as he opened the door. "Why are you even here? We _all _know you're on Team Punk."

"Go fuck yourself. Move out of the damn way you non-human piece of garbage. I'm here to speak to Paul." Kennedy responded with the same attitude and tone.

"Move, Lesnar." Paul yelled. Brock moved, almost like an obedient dog. "Ah, Kennedy. Brock, Axel. Give us a moment."

Curtis Axel got up and followed Brock out – two well trained dogs. "Yes?"

"Why do you think I've called you in here?" Paul asked. "Don't answer that – it was rhetorical. What I really mean is, I'm giving you a second chance – I know you didn't want to leave Punk to fend for himself – I understand that. But at the same time, I'm your father."

"Then you should know about the relationship between Punk & I." Kennedy spoke, gently. She didn't want to lose her father, and lose her best friend. "I don't want to have to choose."

"Well, I did hear on the great vine that a certain _someone _has a crush on you.. Could do wonders for your career here in WWE."

"You hang with dogs, you'll catch their fleas." Kennedy got up, and walked out of the locker room, her father screaming words at her. She walked up to Brock, who had a smirk on his face.

"So, how'd it go?" He asked, with a wink. Kennedy smirked. She stood on her tippy-toes to whisper in his ear, her breath on his neck.

"I don't want fleas. Thanks though." She looked him up and down and shot him a disapproving look, and continued on her walk back to Punk's locker room.

Punk was sitting in the same position he was when Kennedy left him, except he was now sitting on twitter. He heard the door close, and he looked up to see Kennedy with a big smile on her face.

"I'm glad you chose Team Punk." Punk smiled at her, as he motioned for her to sit on his lap. She sat down sideways, and leant into his chest.

"I'd always choose Team Punk, you know that." She said smiling, with her eyes closed listening to the beat of his heart.

"I sure do, Kiki, I sure do." He smiled down at her, resting his head on hers.

After a few minutes, Punk heard Kennedy' stomach grumble. "Aw, are you hungry?" Punk giggled, as he rubbed her belly. "Let's go get food."

"You don't have anything else you need to do?" She asked, as she got up and yawned. "I'm sleepy too." She looked dazed for a moment.

Punk smiled, and shook his head. "Nah, I don't think so. Go grab your stuff, and I'll drop you back at the hotel after."

She smiled at him. "I'll be back here in five. Don't find someone else to take." She lowered her head and closed the door behind herself.

* * *

"What did you wanna get to eat?" Punk asked, as he was driving down the streets of Brooklyn, NY.

"I don't know. Whatever you're up for.." Kennedy mumbled, as she looked out the window of Punk's rental car.

"What's going on?" Punk asked, as he pulled into a parking lot near a burger place. "Kiki?"

"My dad's trying to recruit me for Team Brock." She sighed, and put her head in her hands. Punk ran his hands through his hair.

"Let's get food and discuss this." He spoke in a matter-of-factly tone. The two walked in, their heads down. They were settled near the back of the restaurant, away from prying eyes and ears.

"What do you mean, he's trying to recruit you?" Punk asked, as he called over the waiter. The two got sodas, and ordered a large share of fries.

"He's trying to make me choose between him and you, and he said that if I chose you, I'll be putting you in danger. He wants to pair me up with Lesnar."

Punk sat back, as he took the new information in. "Do it."

Kennedy sat up, and looked at him. "Do what?"

"Be on team Heyman. Then let me know what they're going to do, and I'll be prepared. If they turn on you, I can protect you."

"I don't think this is a good idea Philly." Kennedy spoke gently while plaiting her long hair. "This isn't going to end well."

"What could possibly be the worst thing that could happen?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Slight violence in this chapter. Just a heads up.**

* * *

Weeks later, after Punk discussed the plan with Kennedy, it was finally debuted on Raw. Kennedy was Team Brock – even becoming romantically linked with him on-screen. It was obvious that she wasn't into him, but she had no choice. She had to go along with this plan. They did a few backstage segments, before coming out on live TV. The hatred Kennedy had for Brock was undeniable.

"Poor Punk!" Heyman laughed, loudly to the crowd. "Even his 'best friend' found someone who's better than him!" He motioned towards the ramp, and Brock Lesnar's theme went off, to see Brock Lesnar walk out holding hands with Kennedy. Punk was watching backstage, and he didn't look too pleased. He thought that Kennedy didn't look like herself. She looked far too over-dressed. She was in a black strapless top, with 6" black stiletto heels. She looked incredibly unhappy.

"Smile." Brock whispered angrily in her ear. She shook her head, and let go of his hand, walking down the ramp. She didn't bother getting in the ring. She took a seat next to commentary.

Brock glared at her, while CM Punk's theme went off. She looked up, and watched him. She missed him – all of him. She didn't want to be with the dog. She wanted to be with the one she cared about.

* * *

Brock had Kennedy's arm in a strong hold as he dragged her back to the locker room, with Paul not too far behind. Brock pushed Kennedy into the sofa, and she basically flew and landed like a rag doll. There was silence while Brock paced around the room.

"I'm not dealing with this." Kennedy got up to leave, when Brock stopped her in her tracks.

"You're not going anywhere, _dear_" Paul harshly spoke. "We need to talk about why you can't obey simple orders."

"Because I don't _want_ to." Kennedy responded with attitude. "Why should I?"

"WHAT IS SO DAMN HARD ABOUT SMILING?!" Brock yelled, his frustration with Kennedy boiling over. "IS IT THAT DAMN HARD?!" His hand connected with her face - hard. She let out a blood-curdling scream, as she held her face. Brock didn't notice that he'd hit her so hard, he had assumed he'd hit the wall. She began to cry – Paul did nothing to stop the violence. Kennedy looked at Paul, and he turned his face, not wanting to look at his daughter who now had mascara leaking down her face.

"What's wrong with you?" She screamed at the two of them, as she held her face. Paul was silent, as was Brock. She walked out, and slammed the door behind her. She walked out the back of the arena, to have some time out. Kennedy was holding her face while tears flowed. She didn't know why she'd agreed to do this. She really didn't.

"What's wrong, doll?" She looked up, and saw Nattie Neidhart standing there. "I saw you run out of Heyman's locker room crying. Thought I'd check on you." Nattie sat next to her. "Show me."

She let her hand fall, and Nattie gasped. She had a big red mark that was beginning to bruise. "What the hell happened in there?!"

"It's nothing." She looked down at her feet. She'd knocked her shoes off, and left them on the floor. She shifted her focus to the shoes, and the way that they landed.

"I call crap." Nattie looked at her. "This isn't on girl. Why are you even doing this? For Punk? Your dad?"

Kennedy began to cry again. She's dug herself a hole, and she didn't have a way out. "I don't even know." Nattie rubbed her back as Kennedy cried into her shoulder, while trying to remember where she last saw the one person who could solve the problem.

* * *

Kennedy was sitting in a quiet room, by herself. She'd walked through the backstage area to get herself a soda, and to find somewhere peaceful to think. She was curled up on the black sofa, the tears still flowing. She heard the door open, then close. "Kennedy?" She knew that voice. Kennedy looked up, to see CM Punk standing there, sweaty and still in his ring attire. She shook her head and looked back down. "Show me what he did." CM Punk sat next to her.

Kennedy sighed and lifted her head. Punk saw the bruise forming. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets. "When did he do it? Before?" Anger was highly apparent in his voice.

"Right after I got off stage. He grabbed me, and threw me into the wall. Yelled at me, and then slapped me. Paul just watched, did nothing about it. At all." More tears flowed. Punk pulled her into him. He held her tightly, as she sobbed into his black hooded jacket.

"I won't let him touch you again. I'll talk to creative." Punk sighed, as he continued to cradle her while holding in his own tears, as well as his own anger. "I won't let him,Kiki. Never."


	4. Chapter 4

"Where's Kennedy?" Paul yelled at Punk, who was sitting in the middle of the ring. "Where is she?!"

"What do you even care Paul?" Punk asked, getting angrier. He remembered what Kennedy told him the week before. "If I recall right, you stood by and did nothing while she got battered." Kennedy was standing backstage, mentally preparing herself, while watching Punk blast her father.

Moments later, she was standing at the Gorilla section. Her theme song went off, and she smiled to herself. She was going to overcome this. She walked out to the ramp, and saw her father standing in the middle of the ring, along with Punk who was ready to knock his teeth down his throat.

Before Kennedy could speak, Curtis Axel's theme went off, but he was no-where to be seen. Kennedy let out a scream, and began to run. Punk looked around, and saw Lesnar come down the ramp, and Axel jumping over the barrier.

"Don't think about saving her, Punk." Paul laughed, and shook his head. "You both are quite a piece of work."

While Paul continued talking, Lesnar had caught Kennedy, and was holding her arms behind her back. She looked down, and remembered she was wearing her spiked Lita's. She smiled to herself, as she whispered to Lesnar.

"Turn me around, dog, I've got a present for you that I think you might like." She smiled to herself, as Lesnar – being the thick idiot that he was, did exactly what she asked. She leant in close to his face, wrapping her arms around his neck, softly kissing his cheek.

"See, look!" Paul exclaimed, as he saw what was going on between Brock & Kennedy. "They're still in love."

Brock was inhaling her strawberry scent, and nuzzling her neck. All of a sudden, Kennedy jerked her knee directly into his crotch, which caused him to land on his knees. Kennedy smiled. She saw Curtis come running towards her. She looked around, there wasn't anything for her to do but fight. As Curtis got closer, Kennedy' options got smaller. She ended up roundhouse kicking him, with the spikes hitting him in the ribs. She took one look at Curtis' angry face, and ran. She ran back to the ring, where Punk put her in a corner, and stood in front of her.

"You want her? You go through me, you pissweak assclown!" Punk growled. "You want to fight?! Let's fight!" Paul shook his head quickly, as he pulled Axel back, and hit Brock over the head for being so foolish. Punk turned to Kennedy, and embraced her.

"I need to talk to you." She whispered in his ear, as she linked fingers with him, and the two walked backstage to his theme song.

No words were spoken as the two walked backstage, through the halls. Kennedy walked outside, where there were few people, and she sat with her back against the wall.

"What's going on, Kiki?" He asked as he sat in front of her. She looked almost zoned out. "Kiki?"

"I can't do this, Philly." She let out a large sigh. "I can't sit here and be the ball between you and Paul. I can't. I can't sit here, and pretend that I want nothing with you, when in reality, it's all I want."

Punk sat there, taking in everything she said. Did she really feel that way? "I'm sorry that I feel the way I do." Kennedy sighed, as she got up and walked inside the building, heading straight for the divas locker room. Punk looked up, and realised she was gone.

* * *

Punk was sitting outside the divas locker room, waiting to see Kennedy. He was waiting for what seemed like hours when he saw her walk out, her hoodie over her head, and her suitcase wheeling behind her.

"Kennedy, wait." He called to her, to which she didn't even stop. "Kennedy!"

She kept walking – she didn't want to stop or look him in the eyes. She was going to cry. She was so deeply in love with the person who she called Philly, but she didn't know whether or not he felt the same way. It broke her heart thinking about it.

She made it to her black jeep, and she opened up the boot. She put her suitcase in the back, and closed it.

She turned around, to see CM Punk standing there, and he grabbed her waist. She turned her head, and unlocked the door. "Let me go, Phil."

"I'm not letting you go, Kiki. I won't let go of you unless you pry my hands off of you." He pulled her face towards his, and their lips met for the first time in their seven year close friendship.


	5. Chapter 5

"I can't believe I waited that long for something that tastes so sweet." He mumbled into her, as their foreheads were touching.

Kennedy smiled, blushing. "I've gotta go, Philly. I have to go back to my hotel room to get ready to go out with Nattie and the girls."

"What? Where are you guys going?" Punk held onto her, not wanting to let her go.

"Pop." She smiled. "I guess you could come.." Kennedy spoke, before she felt lips upon hers again.

"Give me 5 minutes to grab my stuff, I'll leave with you." Before Kennedy could speak, Punk was speed-walking back into the arena to grab his stuff.

* * *

There was a knock on Kennedy's hotel room an hour later. She straightened out her one sleeved black dress. She walked barefoot to the door, and she looked through the peep-hole. She saw Punk standing there, looking like he always did. Black zip up hooded jacket, some t-shirt underneath, and dark jeans with sneakers. She shook her head, and opened the door, letting him in.

"You better hope this club allows sneakers."

"It will, I'm CM Punk." He smirked to himself. He watched Kennedy run around barefoot. "You're _still_ not ready?" He laughed, empathising on 'still'. Kennedy threw something at him, which he caught. "I'm a ninja, remember!"

"You're an idiot, remember?" She poked her tongue out, as she slipped her feet into black ballet flats, and picked up her black shoulder bag. "I'm ready _now_" She laughed, as she put her stuff in her bag.

"About time, woman." Punk put his arm around her, once she closed the hotel room door. She shook her head with a smile on her face as she put her head on his shoulder. They met up with Nattie, Brie & Nikki who were standing with Bryan and John Cena.

"Let's get going!" Brie squealed, as Bryan looked out of place. The group all got into a large limousine, before heading out to Pop. They all got in – although Punk did get questioned a fair bit.

Although Punk didn't drink, and the club didn't have Pepsi readily available, so he settled for water instead. He looked sour, but he was quite content sitting at the booth next to Kennedy, who was holding his hand underneath the table while she laughed at Brie's dancing skills – looking incredibly drunk. She looked at Bryan, who didn't look too impressed.

"What are you going to do about Brock?" Nattie asked, as she scooted next to Kennedy. "Like, file something?"

"I don't know. I think I need to have a think about it. I don't want to cause any more trouble that's going around, but I don't want to be stuck in that position again where things could get a lot worse." Kennedy shrugged.

"Let's dance." Nattie smiled, as she crawled out of the other side of the booth.

"I'll be back," Kennedy whispered in Punk's ear, as she scooted over the top of him. "Girl on girl dance time." She winked jokingly. Kennedy followed Nattie to the floor.

"So I see things sparked finally between the two of you," Nattie smiled. She was quite tipsy, and Kennedy was beginning to think she was the only sober diva. "About damn time."

"What makes you say that?" Kennedy asked, raising an eyebrow, as she turned around to see Punk taking some photos with people. She smiled.

"That smile, the fact that the two of you constantly flirt without picking up on it, the way he was holding you earlier, the way you were holding his hand.." She trailed on, twirling herself around. "Just make it official already!"

"I just might," A voice spoke from behind them. Kennedy turned around, to see Punk standing behind them. "Mind if I cut in, Nattie?"

"Not at all, tiger." She winked at the two of them, and went over to Nikki & Brie who were dancing together.

"Ready to go? We do have things to discuss, you know.." Punk trailed off, putting his arms around her. She smiled, and nodded. "I'll let you go say your goodbyes." Kennedy walked over to the girls, who were all excited, yet disappointed that they were leaving so soon.

Once Punk said goodbye to John & Bryan, they hailed a taxi to take them back to the hotel. "You didn't have to come out, you know."

"I know. I wanted to keep an eye on you, since what happened the other week. Lesnar hasn't been seen, and I don't know when he's going to pop up." The taxi parked at the front of the hotel. Punk paid the fare, and gave the guy a tip.

Kennedy nodded, as she got out of the car. They walked through the lobby, and into the elevator. "What's going on between us?" She asked, as they reached Kennedy's floor.

"What do you want to go on between us?" Punk asked – feeling a bit nervous as she opened the door, and motioned him in, closing the door behind them.

Kennedy smiled, before wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm not too sure…" She trailed off, playfully. "Maybe this..." She kissed him, softly on the lips.

"I think I agree with that one..." Punk smiled, as he returned the kiss, and many more for the evening.


End file.
